


Bear Hugging

by ForeverLovingK



Category: Mo Dao Zu Shi, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25875382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverLovingK/pseuds/ForeverLovingK
Summary: Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were decent friends in high school - decent enough friends to be roommates at university. Not decent enough friends to explain why Lan Wangji keeps waking up to Wei Wuxian in his bed.
Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	Bear Hugging

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, hear me out folks: this started off a year (or two) ago as a fic for TaeKai (as I'm now uncomfortable with the thought of that, I have converted this to a WangXian fic) that I have deleted. I had only ever posted the first chapter (which I have modified and posted here to better fit with wwx and lwj's characterizations), but I've had the whole story planned out for at least a year. I am mostly sharing this out of a selfish desire to just tell this goofy, fun, cute little love story, and I think Wangxian is the fictional ship that best fits this concept. I'm aiming for ten chapters, according to the outline I have, but I will warn y'all that I'm a little unreliable if you're looking for super regular updates. Also, please note that this fic is marked mature because there will be lots of mentions of sex, but I'm not exactly planning on writing anything super explicit. Still, I am happy to have you and hope that if you do decide to stick with this story, that you enjoy the fun that ensues!
> 
> Please leave me your thoughts via kudos or comments (or both)! (:
> 
> \--------------

_‘Tamos rompiendo la discoteca  
_ _La fiesta no para, apenas comienza_  
 _Se comme-ci, se comme-ça  
_ _Ma chèrie, la la la la la - Mi Gente x J Balvin & Willy William_

Lan Wangji is confused as to how he’s ended up in his current predicament: sitting up in the bottom bunk he normally sleeps in, clothes rumpled, short dark hair mussed, caught up in some weird not-argument with his roommate (who is laying next to him, shirtless) because they woke up in the same bed.

He’s not sure what about their living arrangements has led them to this point, is not sure that there was ever any indication they would reach this point, is not sure that he would have chosen to room with Wei Wuxian had he known this is how they would end up. The only thing he’s sure about is that, since awakening to the feeling of Wei Wuxian’s lean arm thrown across his now semi-revealed midsection, and realizing that he has no recollection of a one-night stand – despite knowing that he has not had any drunk adventures recently – he’s had a burning curiosity to figure out what on _earth_ his roommate was doing snuggling up to him in his sleep.

Wei Wuxian is still lying down, head propped up on his hand as he works to rub the sleep out of one of his brown eyes, dark eyebrows furrowed in a sort of grogginess Lan Wangji can recognize but cannot exactly empathize with. His roommate’s dark brown, shoulder-length hair is just as messy as Lan Wangji is sure his own bedhead is, waving and tangling in weird ways from wherever his head had been on the pillow, and Lan Wangji thinks to himself, as he watches the tan boy in front of him work to wake himself up, how he could have ever guessed he’d end up here.

\----

Graduating from high school seemed like some far off dream for Lan Wangji, who went through the graduation festivities with more trepidation than excitement. He supposes, looking back, that actually getting to leave high school behind is one of the better things he’s gotten to do in the last six months – not because he hated where he went, but because he can’t say he was ever really _attached_ to his school. In theory, graduating should have been something like a relief for him, who finally felt like he was going to be able to put into practice the strict teachings and extracurriculars his uncle had forced him into outside of school. Yet his high school graduation day will forever be imprinted in his memory as one of the most stressful days of his life.

It had nothing to do with the ceremony itself; he got to the hall early, as was customary in his family, with his graduation outfit in order and all the materials he needed to walk across the stage and receive his degree. His uncle and older brother managed to find good seats, with a clear view of the podium where he would be claiming his diploma. No one came up to him last minute to tell him that no, he was in fact not graduating and needed to leave the area reserved for graduates immediately (and, as valedictorian, he was truly unconcerned about this happening to begin with). But he was anxious before he even got there, because as his classmates were gearing up for one of the most exciting days of their young lives, he was busy thinking about the possibility of getting a randomly assigned roommate – and feeling his insides curl at the thought.

Lan Wangji is not a rude person, and truthfully he does not mind most people from a distance. He can be exceptionally polite, actually, – almost to a fault – and therefore knows getting along with someone enough for the arrangement to work would not be the issue. In truth, a randomly assigned roommate wouldn’t necessarily be an _awful_ experience for him, socially, especially given his typical lack of interest in going out of his way to socialize. For Lan Wangji, the issue with randomly assigned roommates lies not in whether or not they will like each other, but in a difference of opinion on what cleanliness looks like. Lan Wangji is finicky; neat and organized and, ultimately, a huge proponent of keeping his living quarters squeaky-clean. The thought of getting a roommate that does not share that trait or at the very least understand that about him – well, it’s enough to have Lan Wangji struggling to keep his calm demeanor during his entire graduation ceremony.

He barely remembers going up and getting the sheet of paper that says he can officially leave his school for good, barely remembers the final song and the cheers of his classmates, barely remembers having to pose, stiffly, for photos with his uncle and older brother. But what he does remember in vivid detail is watching the clock tick away towards the roommate request deadline; the way he constantly had to take deep breaths to calm the churning in his stomach; the way he searched around for someone – _anyone_ – that he could ask to room with him.

He recalls that it was at this opportune moment that Wei Wuxian, in all of his tan, dark-haired, bright-eyed glory, appeared before him asking for a group photo with him and some of their other classmates. And in the midst of all of the fuss about flowers and photos and fulfilling lifelong dreams, Lan Wangji remembered Wei Wuxian, probably the only person who had really dared approach him time and time again despite his own quiet and admittedly uninviting nature, telling him they’d be going to the same school. And so, before he could even formulate a response to taking a group photo, he found himself asking, “Do you want to be roommates next year?”

It was clear from his classmate’s face that Wei Wuxian had been rightfully taken aback. Lan Wangji had truthfully not returned Wei Wuxian’s enthusiasm when they were socializing, but he did sort of count the kid as a friend – inasmuch as Lan Wangji counted anyone he wasn’t related to as a friend. He figures that if Wei Wuxian liked him enough to invite him into his graduation photos, he probably also somewhat considered Lan Wangji a friend. Still, Lan Wangji wasn’t sure if they were decent enough friends for him to ask Wei Wuxian to room with him. He therefore expected a polite but concrete “no” as soon as the question fell from his mouth, the ball of anxiety within him ever-growing.

But then Wei Wuxian’s face had twisted from a weird almost-nervousness to a bright smile, and he’d nodded and replied, “Sure, but only if you agree to take this picture with me,” leaving Lan Wangji somewhat dumbfounded. He’d hurriedly collected himself, however, and agreed to the photo, at which point Wei Wuxian grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him over to the group he wanted to take his picture with. Lan Wangji only felt true relief flood through him once the photo had been taken and he’d confirmed with Wei Wuxian that yes, he was free to go into the housing system and request his bright-eyed classmate as a roommate for their first year.

The last thing he remembers about that ceremony – eventful and stressful as it may have been – is thanking Wei Wuxian in his typical polite manner before heading off to a celebratory dinner with his family.

\----

A few months later, after having hung out once or twice in larger groups over the summer, per Wei Wuxian’s invitations, Lan Wangji moved into his dorm with Wei Wuxian (immediately choosing the bottom bunk because he knew his regular sleep schedule was not what most college kids lived by, and he didn’t want to disturb Wei Wuxian as he got up in the morning). Given how much they had to unpack within the first couple of days, and given his nature in general, small talk was the least of his concerns. He was more focused on making sure to mop the floors, disinfect the surfaces, and tuck in his sheets when it was time to make his bed than he was on getting to know the nitty-gritty details of his roommate’s life and personality.

He thinks now that, in hindsight, failing to really get to know Wei Wuxian may have been a big mistake.

The first couple weeks after move-in were fine. He thinks they were both just so exhausted and struggling to settle into a new living environment within a much larger campus than they were accustomed to that they didn’t actually have enough energy to talk, much less get on one another’s nerves. Coupled with school and the mountains of homework they got, even Lan Wangji, with all of his intensity and prior academic success, was doing his best just to stay afloat. From the few conversations he did manage to have with his roommate in that time – always initiated by Wei Wuxian – Lan Wangji was sure his roommate was always minutes away from an impromptu nap. (And truthfully, there were times where Lan Wangji felt much the same.)

It was only after the first couple of weeks were over, and after finally finding some semblance of a routine for his daily life, that Lan Wangji figured going out for dinner with his brother, Lan Xichen, and his brother’s best friend, Nie Mingjue, wouldn’t destroy his chances of completing all of his necessary tasks. His Friday night at the end of the academic week consisted of meeting Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue at their shared graduate student apartment a couple of blocks off campus for a home-cooked meal and quality time with the two people he feels most comfortable with. Because he and his brother share similar sleep schedules, his night ends at a reasonable hour with a promise to meet the two graduate students for breakfast in the dining hall the following morning, and he is able to make it back to his dorm, full and satisfied with his night, close to his regular bedtime routine time. He is positive he crawls into his bed for the night only a few minutes later than he normally would, entirely alone.

Yet the following morning, Lan Wangji somehow awakens to the feel of an arm wrapped gently around his midsection and someone’s sleepy breaths fanning out against his neck - both sensations unexpected enough to immediately clear any residual sleepiness from his body. He stiffens as he begins to wrack his brain for any particular reason there could be someone in his bed, turning his head to the side to find the culprit of the warmth surrounding him and the even breaths tickling his skin.

He isn’t sure what he expects to see, but whatever it is, it certainly isn’t the peaceful face of his roommate pressed up against his pillow, nose at just the right angle to release any breaths directly onto his neck.

Startled, Lan Wangji pushes Wei Wuxian’s tan arm off of him and begins to, none-too-gently, shake his roommate awake. “Wei Wuxian,” he says, voice hoarse from hours without use, “wake up!”

Wei Wuxian stirs, brow furrowing, but doesn’t wake up, long, dark hair moving in time with each of Lan Wangji’s increasingly harsh nudges. Lan Wangji lets out something like a huff as he sits up and proceeds to push his roommate with both hands, volume increasing the more time passes. Still, nothing.

”Wei Wuxian,” he says, “wake up!” And with a final push that almost knocks his long-haired roommate off the bottom bunk they’re currently on, Wei Wuxian’s eyes finally snap open

Wei Wuxian’s first sound of the day is a surprised shout as his arms come up to balance himself on the edge of the bed. It doesn’t take much, and as soon as he manages to reposition himself, his face contorts into a sleepy glare

”What’d you do that for?” His voice is thick with sleep, tone full of annoyance. It doesn’t bother Lan Wangji in the slightest given the circumstances.

”Normally I would not disturb your sleep,” Lan Wangji begins, surprised at how calm he sounds as he says it, “but why exactly are you in my bunk?”

And that is the last thing anyone says before he starts to wonder how on earth he ever ended up in this situation. He watches his roommate rub sleep out of his eyes with what he can only imagine to be a profoundly confused expression. And given the length of the silence between them, he’s sure the way his eyebrows are furrowed is only getting more intense with each passing second that Wei Wuxian doesn’t reply. The fact that this is cutting into his morning routine isn’t helping.

It seems to take forever, but then Wei Wuxian, trying (and failing) to stifle a yawn, replies, “Hey, no offense Roommate, but you’re a terrible alarm clock.”

Lan Wangji doesn’t need a mirror to know his frown has just deepened substantially – he can tell by the way his roommate’s eyes widen as if he’s suddenly realizing this isn’t a dream. Immediately after coming to his realization, Wei Wuxian opens his mouth to say something – likely to apologize or something along those lines - but Lan Wangji, already mildly annoyed by this disruption to his routine, doesn’t give him the time to actually voice out his thoughts, settling for pushing his roommate’s hand out from under his face instead.

The way Wei Wuxian’s face falls right into the pillow is satisfying enough to almost alleviate his annoyance, and he’s sure there’s no hiding the mirth in his eyes even when his roommate looks up to make eye contact with him. He’s also sure that the unhidden mirth in his gaze isn’t doing him any favors in trying to get Wei Wuxian to stop giving him such an annoyed expression.

“Was that really necessary?” Wei Wuxian asks when all is quiet again.

Lan Wangji does not dignify that with a response. Instead, he watches Wei Wuxian’s face contort into a sort of squinty-eyed frown as his roommate visibly struggles to come up with something else to say. He finds that it is almost blissfully silent for a few brief moments before Wei Wuxian finally says, “Don’t you have some sort of routine you follow like a religion in the mornings? You should get to it.”

And then his roommate climbs out of his bed and heads to the bathroom – as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, as if he wasn’t just in the completely wrong bunk. Lan Wangji sits for a moment, feeling slightly dumbfounded, at how his morning has gone so far. The last thing he was expecting to do after his first night out since arriving was to wake up to long hair tickling the side of his neck, but alas.

He wants to say that he _does_ have a morning routine and that Wei Wuxian is precisely why he has not been able to get to it; that he would likely be halfway through it already if it did not take his roommate, who was _sleeping in the wrong bunk_ , so long to wake up in the first place. But the appropriate window for replying is closing and Lan Wangji ultimately decides it’s not worth his time. Instead, he heads into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, mildly self-conscious about the start of his morning routine now that his roommate is present to witness it firsthand.

Wei Wuxian’s already got toothpaste foam around his mouth when Lan Wangji steps into the all-white, tiled space, but that doesn’t stop his Wei Wuxian from giving him a haughty look and snorting when he finds Lan Wangji glaring back. Lan Wangji works toothpaste out onto his toothbrush and immediately starts brushing his teeth, makes no other sound as he tries to realign his attention on the fastest way to feeling better.

Naturally, Wei Wuxian’s done before him, and Lan Wangji finds himself only mildly relieved when Wei Wuxian rinses his face and makes to exit the bathroom – but not before stating, “Only sociopaths don’t wet their toothbrush after putting toothpaste on it to brush their teeth.”

\----

Lan Wangji only realizes later, as he is finally dressed and headed to the dining hall to eat a late breakfast with his brother and Nie Mingjue, that Wei Wuxian never did answer his question about why he was in his bed all snuggled up to him to begin with. It’s this realization that has him frowning as he grabs his breakfast and sits down where Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue are seated waiting for him.

Both look up as Lan Wangji sits; his brother gives him his trademark gentle smile; both men give him a small nod in greeting. Lan Wangji nods back, trying to school his face into an expression that’s convincing enough to not let them know he’s in a bad mood. He should know better than trying to fool his brother, though, because Lan Xichen almost immediately asks, “You feeling okay?”

Lan Wangji’s failure to hide his confused frustration is almost absurd enough to find amusement in, but between his annoyance with this morning’s shenanigans and how off he feels with the disruption to his daily routine, he doesn’t even crack a smile. Instead, he meets his brother’s dark-eyed gaze and, letting his breath out into a small sigh, replies, “Long morning. Sorry I’m late.” He tries, again, to maintain a calm and relaxed expression, and knows he’s failed a second time when Nie Mingjue takes a turn.

“You sure? You really seem to be in a mood.”

Lan Xichen’s brown eyes are full of concern, and one glance at Nie Mingjue tells Lan Wangji that even his brother’s best friend is intrigued by his uncharacteristic mood as they await an honest answer.

Lan Wangji isn’t one to open up to people, even the ones he’s normally very comfortable and familiar with. Still, given the absurdity of this morning’s events, he figures that he might as well tell them, if not for any reason than to get some solutions about how to resolve the issue. And, in truth, if his weird interaction with Wei Wuxian this morning is any indication, it might be valuable to try to further solidify the connection he has with his brother while on campus in case he needs to see himself out of his dorm room.

Thus, he swallows his food, takes a short breath to steady himself, and inches closer to the other two sitting at the table with him before he confesses, in a low voice, “I woke up with Wei Wuxian in my bed this morning.”

The silence that follows is punctuated by the stunned looks on Lan Xichen’s and Nie Mingjue’s faces. Lan Wangji feels himself grow more uncomfortable the longer the silence wears on, his brother and his best friend just staring at him with mouths slightly agape. It’s only when he visibly shifts in his seat that Lan Xichen breaks the silence, questions spilling from his mouth faster than Lan Wangji can really process, until finally, his attention lands on one in particular.

“Did you sleep with him?”

It’s the only question Lan Wangji can immediately respond to, and he hears the adamant “No” out of his mouth before he can even really process that he’s responding, before he can even really process what that question means. When the full weight of the question hits him, however, he can feel the tips of his ears burning just the slightest at the fact that his brother would ask such a question, knowing how he is.

He then follows up with his own question: “Why would you even ask such a thing?”

His brother makes a face, one that even years of growing up with Lan Xichen don’t really give him the tools to decipher. Figuring that Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue have known each other long enough to know each other’s thought processes, Lan Wangji looks to his brother’s best friend only to find the other man’s eyebrow raised into an expression that does not give him the slightest clue as to what his brother is thinking.

He wonders, briefly, just how much more confusing his morning is going to get.

Moments later, Lan Wangji picks up on the fact that this is only the beginning when his brother, face breaking out into an amused smile, says, “No reason at all, Wangji. I was just considering all of the possibilities.” And then his brother shoots Nie Mingjue a glance that seems to have even Nie Mingjue’s eyes twinkling in amusement.

Lan Wangji frowns, replying, “I still don’t understand why you considered it a possibility at all.”

His brother doesn’t even try to pretend he’s not ignoring Lan Wangji’s response as he asks, “Did Wei Wuxian say anything about it this morning?”

Lan Wangji shakes his head slightly, punctuating it with a short “No.” He can feel his mood darken as he adds, “He derailed me by telling me I was late in starting my morning routine after I asked him why he was in my bunk. I didn’t realize he’d never answered my question until I was already down here to get food.”

To Lan Wangji’s surprise, his brother laughs. He feels his confidence sinking at the sound as his brother’s nose – straight and tall and incredibly similar to his own – crinkles up towards the top, eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Brother I am struggling to understand what about this is funny,” Lan Wangji states, voice completely deadpan.

The tone of his voice only succeeds in pulling a laugh from Nie Mingjue this time before his brother shakes his head, calms himself, and says, “It’s just that you were surprisingly so easily derailed that he was able to waltz right out of your room without explaining why he was in your bed. Honestly, it makes sense now that you don’t know why he was in your bed to begin with.”

And then Lan Xichen’s face sobers up as Lan Wangji listens attentively to what he says, still sitting perfectly straight in his chair, breakfast practically untouched since he’s started explaining his strange morning. “You should talk to him again,” his brother suggests, voice entirely reasonable now. “It’s not like anything truly wild happened, but he definitely owes you an explanation as to why he was in your bed this morning.”

Lan Wangji hears Nie Mingjue hum in agreement and shifts his gaze to the other, watching as the man nods his head and adds, “It’s better to talk to him now and clear the air before things get weird for the rest of the year. The last thing you want is to be awkward with your roommate.”

Again, Lan Wangji tries and fails to put on a calm expression, face falling back into a pensive frown. It’s sound advice on his brother’s and Nie Mingjue’s part, but the thought of talking to Wei Wuxian about this morning has his insides churning almost nervously, because Nie Mingjue is very right: the last thing he wants is to be awkward with his roommate – especially given the fact that _Lan Wangji_ requested _him_.

He doesn’t say anything in response then; just turns his attention back to his breakfast and hopes that his table-mates will pick up on him cuing a subject change. It takes a moment, but then Nie Mingjue shrugs and says, “In any case, Xichen I would like your input on the topic I chose for that history of metalsmithing class I’m taking.” And Lan Wangji, through a mouthful of lukewarm breakfast food, is grateful for the distraction – and for the chance to learn about what graduate school courses are like.

\----

Lan Wangji doesn’t want to do this.

He really doesn’t want to do this.

He really, truly, desperately doesn’t want to do this.

But here he is, sitting on his bed with his metaphorical big boy pants on, trying to muster up the courage to reinitiate the conversation from this morning with his roommate, who sits at his desk typing on his computer. Lan Wangji finds himself watching Wei Wuxian nervously, taking in the shine in his dark brown hair, the glow of his sun-kissed skin, the purse of his bright lips as he focuses on typing out his next word; finds himself having to refocus again and again as he wonders how to ask about this morning now that he is less emboldened by his annoyance from having his routine disrupted; finds himself struggling for the right words to start the conversation.

In the end, he doesn’t need to, because his roommate stops typing to direct his attention toward him, a dark brown eyebrow raised in question. “Any reason why you’re staring so hard?” he asks, and suddenly Lan Wangji goes from watching to freezing, face impassive.

He’s quiet as he thinks about how to start, and then meets Wei Wuxian’s eyes as he says, “I was just thinking about how you never answered my question this morning.”

It’s abrupt, he knows, but it’s something, and it sure saves him the suspense of trying to lead into what he can already sense will be a strange conversation no matter what actually happened the night before. Once it’s out, he can feel more than see Wei Wuxian staring at him quizzically, and so he adds a bit more context to help ease the obvious confusion on his roommate’s face. Better to rip off the Band-Aid, he figures.

“You never told me why you were in my bed this morning.”

Wei Wuxian’s expression has goes from inquisitive to impassive, eyes and lips and mouth perfectly straight to present a very obviously forced expression of vague disinterest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, voice flat.

Lan Wangji frowns at that, because he can clearly see the tenseness under Wei Wuxian’s expressionless face – can feel the air in the room thickening.

“You are lying,” Lan Wangji replies, voice quiet but sure, despite how dumbfounded he is that Wei Wuxian would so boldly try to pretend he knew nothing of everything that occurred that morning.

“I woke up to your arm around me and your breath on my neck,” Lan Wangji adds, suddenly forgetting his own discomfort with bringing up the conversation. “I certainly was alone in my bed when I went to sleep.” He pauses momentarily, pondering whether or not he should add what exactly is on his mind before deciding to plunder forward. “There is no denying what happened this morning.”

He watches his roommate’s expression carefully; sees Wei Wuxian’s mouth shift from two thick lips to one thin line, sees the insecurity settle in on his tan face, sees his shoulders shift just the slightest to reveal how uncomfortable he’s feeling in that moment. And Lan Wangji, so unsure of what to make of this situation already, feels his annoyance returning.

Still, he was taught, in those strict teachings from his uncle as a child, that patience is a virtue, and so he does aim to be patient as he watches Wei Wuxian struggle through finding the words – the same way he had struggled just a few moments ago. He waits in silence, before long noticing his roommate’s leg now bouncing in something Lan Wangji can only interpret as apprehension. Even to him, it almost feels like an eternity before Wei Wuxian finally speaks up again.

“I crawled into your bed last night, half asleep, because I _needed_ to snuggle up against something.” Lan Wangji can see Wei Wuxian’s face growing ever redder as he speaks. “When I get really stressed, or lonely, or sad, or truthfully any form of upset, the only thing that really calms me down is contact with another living being. Normally – “ he throws his hands up defensively as he continues to explain, likely seeing the mildly weirded out look Lan Wangji knows he has failed to repress, “that means my brother or my sister, because at this point they’re used to me snuggling with them, even if Jiang Cheng doesn’t exactly _like_ it all the time…”

Wei Wuxian trails off. Lan Wangji is trying really hard to fix his face at this point, but he knows he can’t stop the judgment from curving his eyebrow in just the right way to make Wei Wuxian’s obvious discomfort more pronounced – so much so that his roommate starts to rush through his sentences.

“I don’t know why I do it or why it helps me when nothing else does, but it’s so ingrained that I’ll do it without much thought when I’m half-asleep. It’s almost like when you’re cold at night so you pull the covers on you. You don’t remember it the next morning, but you know it can’t have been anyone else but you.” He pauses to take a breath, and then presses on as if he hadn’t stopped at all. “When I woke up to you this morning, I wasn’t sure how to respond to you, because I didn’t consciously _mean_ to crawl into your bed last night, I just kind of did because I’ve been stressed and my body felt like it was necessary. I told myself before coming to school that I was going to be okay and I was going to manage my stress to make sure this didn’t happen. And do you know how embarrassing it is, after all that, to have to explain to your university roommate why you’re cuddling up to him even though you have barely exchanged more than polite conversation since moving in?”

His roommate’s words get more and more frustrated until they ultimately stop, Wei Wuxian cutting himself off so abruptly that it catches Lan Wangji entirely off guard. When he realizes that Wei Wuxian has finished, Lan Wangji takes a deep breath and tries to fully process all of the information his roommate has just thrown at him. He admits that now that he knows, he feels a little guilty for being so unrelenting as soon as Wei Wuxian woke up. Understanding now where it stems from, he’s sure Wei Wuxian was almost as confused as he was this morning – and then super embarrassed.

And yet, he cannot bring himself to feel bad enough to want to continue being his roommate. The mere thought that anytime Wei Wuxian gets stressed means that Lan Wangji will wake up with his roommate’s arm around his midsection has him feeling just the slightest bit uncomfortable – mostly because he hates the idea of sharing such a small bed. When he looks up to fully meet Wei Wuxian’s eyes again, he feels his guilt build just the slightest, but says, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know that I’m comfortable with being your roommate knowing this, now.”

“I understand.” Wei Wuxian’s voice is laced with melancholy as he says it, though his face is still flushing profusely. And the way Wei Wuxian’s eyes seem to accept defeat, completely resigned, makes Lan Wangji feel worse about the whole ordeal, but it doesn’t stop him from standing from his spot on the bed, throwing on some slippers, and making his way down to the end of the hall to the Resident Assistant’s room.

He tries to squash his guilt as he knocks on the door, clasping his hands together as he waits. It isn’t long before the fourth-year, Jin Guangyao, cracks open his door and looks directly at Lan Wangji, his black hair falling over a pair of gentle brown eyes, a bright smile lighting up his kind face. Lan Wangji nods back before asking if he can enter, and Jin Guangyao steps aside and allows him in.

Jin Guangyao’s room is clean and well decorated, with a strategically angled armchair in the corner and a rug thrown onto the middle of the floor to hold all the different elements of the room together. Lan Wangji appreciates the atmosphere as he makes his way across the room and sinks into the armchair, feeling a little apprehension begin to feed into his guilt for walking out on Wei Wuxian when the latter was so vulnerable. He tries to tell himself that, in all fairness, he probably wouldn’t have signed up to be roommates with Wei Wuxian in the first place had he known it’d end up with him having to occasionally share a twin XL bed with someone he was just barely friends with in high school, and tries to take that reasoning into his thoughts with him as Jin Guangyao sits on the bed, facing him.

“So what brings you here today?” His voice is gentle, his words easygoing. Lan Wangji immediately feels a little more comfortable as he delves into a concise explanation. Jin Guangyao listens wordlessly, but intently, seemingly hanging onto every word he is saying. When Lan Wangji finishes recounting the events of the day, and the discovery of the last fifteen minutes, Jin Guangyao sits in silence and seems to ponder on all that he’s heard. Lan Wangji doesn’t push him – he knows it’s a lot to process, considering the fact that he’s still trying to process it himself.

After a few minutes, Jin Guangyao finally speaks. “So you would like to switch rooms, is what I’m hearing?” Lan Wangji nods quietly, hoping that he doesn’t sound ungrateful or troublesome for requesting a room-switch so early in the year. When Jin Guangyao sighs, he feels himself tense; he never takes sighs as a good sign.

“Unfortunately,” Jin Guangyao continues, “since your incoming class is so large, all the rooms we have for first-years are full. We don’t have anywhere else for you to go.” His voice is apologetic and concerned, and his eyes are still so gentle, softening the blow ever so slightly. But Lan Wangji can still feel the crushing defeat of knowing he’ll have to stay in his room until, possibly, someone drops out or transfers, and who knows when that would be.

Jin Guangyao, seeing his face, kindly offers, “I could host a mediation process between you two so we can try to come to a mutual agreement.” Lan Wangji ponders it for a moment, but ultimately decides against it. Given the way Wei Wuxian described it to him, it didn’t seem like something he was fully able to control, which would make any agreement they made thoroughly useless anyway. A complete waste of time, truly.

He shakes his head and sighs before responding, “No, it’s okay. We will just figure something else out.”

Jin Guangyao gives him an understanding, though apologetic, look as Lan Wangji gets up out of the armchair and heads back to his room.

\----

When night rolls around again, Lan Wangji finds himself almost dreading going to bed. He knows the possibility of him waking up to Wei Wuxian in his bed is likely high considering how bad a day his roommate must’ve had. He can only imagine the stress Wei Wuxian must be under after having to admit what is undoubtedly one of his deepest, darkest secrets. Still, Lan Wangji is tired after such an emotionally challenging day, and so he crawls into bed, nervous but exhausted, and hoping beyond hope that when he wakes up in the morning, there won’t be anyone next to him.

It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep, despite the mild anxiety that still sits in his core. In truth he sleeps deeply and he sleeps well, his dreams running the mill from having lunch with his brother to sitting down to take an exam (and not performing as well as he’d like on it – likely a remnant from the anxiety he fell asleep with). When he wakes up the following morning, he feels rested and relaxed and ready to take on all that Sunday throws at him.

And then he feels the arm thrown across his waist, the leg pressing up against his own, the breath fanning out against his neck, and thinks to himself that it’s going to be a long year.


End file.
